Still Kicking
by Salmon
Summary: I'm not going to pretend I'm some kind of selfless heroine. No fabulous secrets were revealed to me the day I held aloft my sword and said, "For the honor of Greyskull!" Bookverse. Spoilers through Death Masks. Susan's POV


**Still Kicking**  
**A Dresden Files Fanfic**

_Bookverse. Spoilers through Death Masks. Susan's POV_

Some nights I still dream. I'm surprised I remember how to, actually. Between the sleepless nights and the waking nightmares that have become part of my everyday existence. Am I complaining? Heck, yes. I'm not going to pretend I'm some kind of selfless heroine. No fabulous secrets were revealed to me the day I held aloft my sword and said, "For the honor of Greyskull!"

Give me a break, I was nine and it was Halloween. I wasn't too disappointed, actually. I preferred Jem and the Holograms to She-ra anyway. They got to go to celebraty parties and wear designer clothes. But my mother refused to let me dress up as Jem. Maybe it was the makeup. Or maybe she was stockpiling blackmail for my teenage years. After all, what sounds more threatening - "I'll show your friends pictures of you in a pink wrapdress"? Or "I'll show your boyfriend the pictures of you running around in a blonde wig and cardboard armor if you're not back by curfew"? I can almost imagine she'd have done that too. She died before I started high school, so I never got to find out. God, I still miss her.

Being a member of the Fellowship of St Giles isn't what I planned for my life. Anymore than I ever expected to be a partly turned vampire. But when I go over the choices that led me here, I don't think I'd remake them even if I could.

Would I still become a reporter for the Arcane? Absolutely.

Would I still harrass Chicago's only professional Wizard for an interview until he said yes? Definately.

Would I still get involved with him? Frankly, I don't think I could resist. If you aren't charmed by a guy who opens doors for you, pulls out your chair, and offers to pay for your drink even if you're earning more than he is...you're probably Karrin Murphy. But that's besides the point. Choosing differently would mean I regret it, and I don't. Not a minute. Sure, there were down sides. Loup-garous, demons, being stood up for dates because the forces of darkness never take friday evenings off. But, hey, I did get to watch him square off with a demon buff naked in the pouring rain. See? Sometimes the glass really is half full.

I guess the final question is would I still attend the Vampire Ball? A part of me says no. I'd listen to Harry and stay away. I know only part of my attending was because of being a nosy reporter. Another part of it - embarrassing and juvenile as it is - was I was falling into the role of the jilted girlfriend. Harry was off saving the world and I felt left-out. The irony in that is cutting. But when I think about it - really think about it - all I can think of is what happened between Harry and that Fairy bitch. If I hadn't been there to sacrifice my memories, would he have been alright? Or would he have been helpless to stop what followed? If my not going would get Harry hurt - or killed - then I'd attend regardless.

That's the way love is. Selfish and selfless at the same time. I wanted Harry to take a night off from saving the world to spend with me. But in a choice between Harry's life and mine, I didn't even have to think on it. Just tell me what you think the odds of getting the pearly gates shut in my face are.

So even if I had a second chance, I wouldn't change anything. I mean, if I could rewrite history I'd have us swoop in, steal the sword, save the girl, and escape in tact. Like some kind of action movie or comic book. You can't rewrite history like that, though. That's what dreams are for. Atleast, that's what I dream about. About saying yes to a question I said no to. About standing in front of full-length mirror in a tight white gown with a killer slit and saying - "Hi, I'm Susan Rodriguez Dresden," while Murphy rolled her eyes and Lydia made choking noises in the background. About dancing with Harry while dressed in that same gown - feeling his arms around me, and letting his eyes become my world for one moment.

I gazed into his eyes during our first meeting. I tricked him into - long story, don't ask. I'd gazed with a few small time practitioners during my time as a reporter of the paranormal. I'd figured gazing with the so called "Wizard" Dresden would be no different. I couldn't have been more wrong. I don't think I can accurately describe what I saw. I saw him...and I saw other things. The things he fought against. The things he was born to fight against. I fainted. It's embarrasing as hell to look back at that, especially considering some of the things I've faced since. Though some of what I've faced still can't compare to what I saw in his eyes.

Lydia teased me a few days later if I'd suddenly discovered religion. I've never been much into standarized religion. Too constrictive. And if you ask me most major religions have issues with women being figures of authority. Harry told me once that it's probably more of how people have translated and interpretted religion over the years than actually being part of the real religion. I told him that didn't change the end result. Still, it made for a great addition to an article I was doing at the time.

End result for me was, no I hadn't discovered religion. But I'd never before been so certain that there was evil, real evil, out there. And that some people are born to stand against it and protect others from it. Like one Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Which makes my previously mentioned jilted girlfriend feelings all the more juvenile. I mean, I knew what I was getting into. But I guess that doesn't stop a girl from feeling like the forces of darkness are conspiring against her getting some one on one time with her guy. Heck, maybe the forces of darkness were conspiring against us. I mean - look at how things turned out. We don't even live on the same continent anymore.

I know, I know, complaining doesn't due any good. But to quote Verne - Complaining doesn't have to do any good. Complaining feels good. Complaining isn't, however, getting a new sattelite dish for the Fellowship's Curico outpost's communications system. The old one got stolen by some hobsgoblins as a tithe to their god.

...I'm being serious here. I wouldn't joke about something like that. Well, no actually, I would. Something else I learned from Harry. If you're still joking, you're still kicking.

And I'm still kicking.

_**Salmon**_

Short, pointless, but I like it anyway. Besides, there's too few Susan fics in this fandom! LOL


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